Welcome to Section One
by Kita Samuelle
Summary: Welcome to Section One, where we take things day by day...


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything of lfn. **

**A/N: This is just something I just started writing on a whim. Just a fun little practice for me to get back in the hang of writing lfn fics again. I love feedback, so drop a comment!**

Welcome to Section One, where we take things day by day. Where your life has no guarantee and the only sure thing here is your ultimate and untimely death.

Never fear, choices are no longer necessary. Everything is already decided for you, you're under command to simply follow them all. All your days are the same, caught in the simple routine. Sit, stand, arm yourself, kill, regroup.

Hope is a useless factor here, but for a few it still remains. Believing is fruitless, but we have to try. Try to believe that one day, we can rise above it all. Above the lies. Above the hard, cold truth that you secretly know will one day bury you six feet under.

In through each chilled day, we look for someone to trust. To release some of the tension. Depression. Hurt and anxiety. Fear. Oh yes, great fear. To have someone to care for, without a fight.

Hours, days, weeks. Your view upon the world will increase to fade in to greys and blacks. White is taken out of the picture entirely. White. The color of innocence. Purity. Everything you're not. No longer. Not anymore.

Until finally, you will cease to care. And you're purged in to a colorless future, past, present. Where everything and anything means nothing.

The people surrounding you are your teammates. Your friends. Your enemies. Family, lover, stranger. Back stabbers, thieves, trustees, peers. All in one. They're everything, and you find that it's not comforting in the slightest.

The prison you are in is full of opposites, everything you go through. You're shattered. You died. But now you're reborn. The job is too much, but your life is not enough. You exist, thanks of Section. Yet you're no longer alive, because of Section. Agony. Passion. Disease. Healing. Sunrise. Sunset. Day after day. Colorless. Hopeless. Dead.

It doesn't mean all that much. Really, it means nothing at all. But it means everything.

Contradictions. This place is full of them. It's what turns you in to the confused, cold, uncaring, distrustful person that you're bound to become. You think you wont. But you will. It's only a matter of time. Section gets to everyone. I wish I could save you. But then who would save me? An eye for an eye.

A whisper in your ear. Or perhaps, in your heart. It whispers, '_escape. Escape. Escape now. While you still can. Escape before they destroy your soul. Before you become one of them. Because if you stay, you'll be just like them.' _It reminds you, _'it's only a matter of time. It'll get to you. Just a matter of time...escape. Escape now.'_

But don't put thought in to it. Don't believe it. It's false. A lie. A desperate last hope on it's death bed.

Because there is no escape. No hope. No soul. One you've stepped inside this place, no matter how or why you got here, you won't be going back out. You'll die serving a place that's against everyone you once stood for. Even the worst criminals hate this place. Even they wither away.

Forsaken. Deserted. Left all alone. It's the end of the world as you know it. This may sound like a lot of meaningless, worthless, jumble of insanity. You'll one day learn that it's not. That it makes perfect sense. One day, one day all too soon.

This is heaven no one else but me. This cruel, dark place. This souless, hopeless place. I'll defend it for as long as I can. Until the last breath is taken. Until the last beat of my heart is stilled. Until the world all around me goes bleaker than it is now. However short that is.

Your time here is short as well. You'll never grow old. A grey hair will never appear on your head. You'll be long gone before there's a chance for that. No one without supreme power ever lives long around here. It's not to frighten you. No, it's just a simple piece of information. A fact. A truth. Just another grief you'll have to face sooner or later.

You have no freedom. No free will. You're a caged animal, trained to do the dirty work and be shot soon performing your task. You're dead already. You just don't fully understand it. It's not just to the outside world. No, you're really dead. In every sense but the physical one. And even that...

Yet you can still worm your way in to getting a few days more to live. To making a few changes around here if you're really lucky. It's rare. It hardly ever happens. But you never know. You could be the savior to this place. Just don't hold your breath too long. It's just another way they let you die.

This is Section. A place unlike any other. A place that's your new home. A place that's your grave. You have a little while here. What will _you_ do with that small amount of time?

-End of transmission-

-K.S.-


End file.
